


What Hortense and Quackmore Wanted

by DrummerGirl231



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Adoption, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family Loss, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 00:44:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20322286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrummerGirl231/pseuds/DrummerGirl231
Summary: One week after Hortense and Quackmore's deaths, Scrooge heads out to Grandma Duck's farm to collect Donald and Della, albeit reluctantly.





	What Hortense and Quackmore Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> This was written before Frank Angones backtracked about Donald and Della hatching out of the same egg.
> 
> This one shot is a prequel to "Peace and Quiet." It relies rather heavily on my headcanons which will certainly become an AU once more is revealed in the show.

Scrooge went to check the soon-to-be occupied nursery one more time before heading down to the car. Despite having the door and windows open for the last several days, the new paint smell greeted him at the top of the tower steps before he even reached the doorway. Still, it was far milder than it had been. And if it bothered the children, they could sleep in a guest room until it was bearable. 

He wouldn’t have bothered repainting the room had lead paint not been the issue. He’d had the rooms he used on a regular basis repainted after lead paint was banned nearly a decade ago, but since the attic still had the same paint it always had, and that paint had started to chip, he knew he’d have to have something done about it before moving in a pair of five-year-olds.

_If I had my way, they wouldn’t be moving in at all,_ he grumbled in his mind. All he could see looking around the room were the ways the twins were already costing him – the new paint, having to hire professionals to do the painting, having a moving truck bring the twins’ dressers, clothes, toys, and other belongings from their home, two twin-sized bedframes, mattresses, and bedding sets… _and this is only the beginning… They’ll cost me a fortune by the time they’re eighteen._

Downstairs, Duckworth stood waiting beside the car for Scrooge and opened the door for him when Scrooge descended the front steps.

“I don’t suppose I can send them off to make their own way in the world when they’re ten?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“I’m afraid not, Sir. It’s quite illegal in this day and age.”

“And that’s another thing!” Scrooge removed his hat and climbed into the backseat. “This day and age! How am I supposed te deal with children 115 years younger than I am?”

“With stern discipline for them, and highly caffeinated beverages for you, Sir.”

Scrooge only grumbled in reply, and Duckworth shut the door and got into the driver’s seat.

Their destination wasn’t far, but the landscape was entirely different as they descended the other side of the hills that were the backdrop of Duckburg. Looking out the window at the acres of farmland – vineyards, pastures, and fields – Scrooge asked himself for the hundredth time why the children couldn’t grow up _here._ It looked like a perfectly suitable environment. What on Earth must have been going through Hortense’s mind, choosing him as their guardian should anything happen to her and Quackmore? 

Soon Elvira’s farmhouse came into view, and as badly as Scrooge wanted to tell Duckworth to drive on, he held his tongue and Duckworth turned onto the gravel driveway. Pebbles crunched as they gave way to the car’s weight and the car shook in protest of the uneven terrain. Before Duckworth could reach the top of the driveway, a tiny girl in a powder blue dress threw open the front door and tried to dash down the porch steps toward the car. Duckworth slowed his driving to a crawl, but he needn’t have. A heavyset teenage goose that Scrooge recognized from the funeral the day before had followed right at the girl’s heels and scooped her up, holding her aloft as she kicked her feet as though she’d resume running the moment he let her touch the ground again. Scrooge nearly let out a groan, but sighed instead. He could already tell this one was going to be a handful all by herself.

As soon as Duckworth parked, the teenager set Della down on the porch steps and she scampered up to the car as though she’d never been impeded at all.

“Unca Scrooge Unca Scrooge Unca Scrooge!” She stopped just far enough away to allow Duckworth to open the door for him, jumping up and down as she waited. As soon as Scrooge’s spats hit the dusty gravel, Della threw her arms around him, just as she had at the funeral.

_Why on Earth is this child so friendly?_ Scrooge asked himself. _And cheerful? It’s downright indecent of an orphan…_

“Er… hello, Lass.”

“Hi!”

“Della!”

Scrooge looked up at the porch. Elvira had appeared in the doorway with little Donald clutching her skirts.

“Did you dart out of the house and run toward a moving car?”

“Noooo… Gus stopped me.”

“Thought I’d wait by the window with her, just in case,” the teen assured Elvira before turning to Scrooge. “She’s been awfully excited to see you, Mr. McDuck. Been tellin’ anyone who’ll listen about getting’ to live with ya.”

_Well at least one of us is pleased about it…_ Scrooge grumbled internally.

“I drawed a picture in Sunday school today!” Della told him. “I’ll go get it!” She released her uncle and darted back up the steps. “He’s here! He’s here!” she told her brother, and Donald hugged his grandma tighter so Della wouldn’t bump into him as she ran past.

_Sunday school…_ as complicated as Scrooge’s feelings toward religion were, he had no objection to kids going to Sunday school to learn sound morals… don’t lie, don’t steal, treat others the way you’d want to be treated… and the very phrase “Sunday school,” conjured up images in his mind like church clothes, family dinners, game nights, singing songs, parents helping kids with homework, and all things ridiculously wholesome. It was the sort of life he couldn’t imagine providing for them himself.

Elvira asked Scrooge and Duckworth if they’d eaten, and they had, but of course that didn’t stop her from insisting they each have a small plate of something.

“The neighbors have set up a little schedule… they’ve been bringing us meals all week,” she explained as she warmed up some unspecified casserole, never looking at Scrooge as he watched from the small dining table. She moved to the coffee maker next. Donald stayed so close to her as she bustled about the kitchen, Scrooge half-expected her to trip over him, but she never did. She always glanced down to check on the lad’s whereabouts before she took a step in any direction. It was a dance they must have had the time to perfect.

“Unca Scrooge, look at my drawing!” Della ran into the kitchen while unfolding a piece of paper, then held up her drawing for Scrooge to see. He could hardly tell what it was. Maybe they were people and houses? That was probably it. There were circles with two more circles drawn on them – must’ve been heads with eyes – and the eyes were drawn above what looked like bananas, but were most likely smiling duck bills. And of course these people had no bodies… just four sticks coming out of their heads for limbs. On each end of the drawing were squares with triangles on top, one much bigger than the other. “I drawed us!” 

“You mean, ‘I drew us,’ Honey,” Elvira corrected her gently. “That’s another one of those tricky words.”

“I drew us!” she said, quite unfazed. “See? That’s you, and me, and Donald in front of your house,” she pointed to the various shapes while leaning on Scrooge, “And then there’s Grandma Duck, and Gus, and Gladdy, and Fethry over here in front of this house.”

“That’s quite a good drawing,” he forced himself to say. 

Little Della’s eyes lit up in gratitude, and her grandmother reminded her, “What do you say, Honey?”

“Thank you!” 

“You’re welcome.” He told himself he wasn’t lying… maybe the drawing was good for her age. Meanwhile, as he stared at all these heads with limbs, a sudden realization came to him:

_Blast, they’ve got a whole family… a family they seem so fond of… a family that seems much fonder of them than I am…_

For the last week, he’d done nothing but grumble as he prepared his home for the twins, wishing they could live with anyone else… he hadn’t stopped to consider that maybe everyone else wished the same. 

Glancing up from the drawing, he studied Elvira. He’d seen her a few times prior to the accident. Today her usually tidy hair was a bit disheveled. She normally looked right at people when she spoke to them, but now she seemed to be avoiding his gaze entirely. Her voice had a shaky flatness to it, as though she’d been crying earlier and was desperately trying not to do so again. And while up until this point he’d only ever seen her wear light colors, her black dress reminded him and all those around her that she’d recently lost her son… her _son._

And Scrooge was still in black, as well… he had his own grief to deal with, burying his sister… but there was something about losing a child. He hadn’t experienced it. He’d never had a child, much less lost one. But it didn’t take a parent to know that losing a child is the worst loss one could ever experience. A child preceding their parent in death defied all laws of nature and society, all expectations, all hopes and dreams.

And here he was, about to take Elvira’s grandchildren away from her while she was still in the throes of such a loss.

_There’s nothing right about this._

“Kids, why don’t you go watch a program for a bit?” Elvira said.

“Okay!” Della took one of Scrooge’s hands in both of hers and tried to tug him along with her. “Unca Scrooge, do you wanna watch cartoons with me?” 

“I meant just you and Donald, Honey. Grandma has to talk to your uncle Scrooge for a little bit.”

“Can we watch Karate Frogs?” 

_What in blazes are karate frogs?!_ Scrooge wondered.

“No, because last time you watched it, you got a little too rambunctious trying to act it out afterwards. Pick another program, please. One that’s not so violent.”

“Awww, man… how ‘bout Tuppet Toddlers?” she asked.

“That’s a good one. Go an’ see if it’s on,” Elvira said.

“Come on, Donald!” Della took her brother’s hand and he went willingly with her from his grandmother’s side, their tiny feet pattering off to the den. 

Elvira set two small plates of casserole on the table. “Coffee isn’t ready yet, but d’you want something else in the meantime? Milk, water, lemonade, ice tea?”

“Water’s fine, thank you,” he said. 

“I wanna make sure your butler has something to eat, too,” she said as she dropped a couple ice cubes in a glass and filled it at the sink. “It shouldn’t take this long to get their bags in the car… or… oh, I forgot, he and Gus are probably installin’ the car seats.”

“Car seats?”

“Oh they won’t be in them much longer,” she said, setting the glass down on the table. “They’re a little bit behind, weight-wise… doctor says it’s not unusual for babies who hatch premature. They’ll catch up.” 

Scrooge had forgotten about their premature birth. He didn’t believe Hortense when she wrote to him telling him the doctor said her twins were encased in the same eggshell. He dismissed it as her wanting attention. But then their birth was in the paper, since it was so rare for same-egg twins to survive.

He looked down at the casserole. He wasn’t sure what all was in it, but it involved potatoes, cheese, and spinach at least. He picked up his fork, but paused when he remembered any family that attended church on Sunday probably preferred to say grace first. He was just about to ask Elvira about it when she took a bite from her plate, so he decided to skip it, as well. 

They ate quietly for a minute or so, and Scrooge began to wonder if she was ever going to talk to him about whatever it was she wanted to talk to him about. Maybe she wanted to ask him if she could keep the children – that was his hope, anyway. But at last she rested the edge of her fork-wielding hand on the tablecloth.

“You should know Donald gets throat infections easily,” she said. “I’ve wondered if it’s because he was a preemie, but I don’t know. I’m no doctor. Della will usually get sick when he does, but it doesn’t seem as bad.”

Scrooge kept a straight face to conceal his disappointment. This didn’t sound like the start of asking for custody at all. 

“Oh, and I know Della may seem disobedient at times,” Elvira went on, “but I think in her heart she really wants to be a good girl. She’s just so forgetful sometimes… easily distracted. Gentle reminders work a lot better with her than scolding if you ask her to do something and she doesn’t do it right away. Tryin’ to get her ready for bed can be a real challenge… and their bedtime is at eight o’clock. That’s what they’re used to. And they still sleep with a nightlight, and never apart from each other. They had a full-sized bed at their old house, and they’ve been sleeping in my bed with me all week.”

“I hope they don’t mind having two twin-sized beds, because that’s what I’ve already paid for,” Scrooge said. 

Elvira shrugged. “You can try it, but you may have to push the beds together the first few nights while they adjust to their new surroundings. Heck, they’re tiny. You might just come to wake them up in the morning and find them curled up together in the same bed,” she smiled at the thought. “It’d be a tight squeeze, but they’d manage it, if it made them more comfortable. Oh, and they don’t have any food allergies that I know of. They like peanut butter and jelly – Donald likes strawberry, and Della likes grape – and grilled cheese is always a winner – but they flat out refuse to eat brussel sprouts.”

Scrooge nodded. “Mm. So do I. Those vulgar vegetables are not allowed in my home.”

Elvira smiled sadly. “Well… sounds like they’re all set, then.”

And Scrooge knew for certain the moment he saw that empty smile that Elvira hated the idea of her grandbabies going to live with him as much as he did. Sure, they seemed nice, as far as children went, but he wasn’t ready for this. Other parents get months to prepare. 

He got one week. 

_One week_ to try and prepare for something he never planned to deal with in his life.

And it seemed terribly unfair to him that he should get landed with two children when they had other relatives far more family-oriented than he ever was… did it have to do with money? Because he’d be willing to supplement Elvira’s income to care for them if that was the case. It was bound to be cheaper than raising them himself.

Yes, that was probably best. It’s what would be best for everyone.

“We don’t have to do all this,” he said, setting down his fork. “You and I both know the children would be better off with you than me… even if ye do try te feed them the vegetable that’s proof God makes mistakes.”

Elvira chuckled and shook her head at that, but Scrooge went on. 

“I can send money every month to help with their upkeep – food, clothes, doctor bills, whatever they need.”

But Elvira only shook her head again. “No… no, I know you can, but you’re forgetting one thing,” and at last she looked him square in the eyes as tears welled up in hers. “It’s not what my baby wanted.”

And Scrooge knew there was no rebuttal for an argument like that. 

“And I don’t know why,” Elvira went on, her voice faltering as she reached for a paper napkin from the holder in the middle of the table. “God knows I’ve asked ‘Why?’ a thousand times this week…”

“That makes two of us,” Scrooge admitted as Elvira wiped her eyes. 

“But for some reason it’s what Quackmore and Hortense wanted and we’re just going to have to deal with that… _both of us,_ you hear?” she said sternly, pointing right between his eyes. "Don't you go ignoring these babies or mistreatin’ them because you wish they’d grow up with me instead. Don’t think just because I’m old I won’t knock you senseless if CPS winds up dropping these kids off at my doorstep.”

When she commented on her old age, Scrooge wondered if she even realized he was old enough to be her grandfather, but that wasn’t important.

“I can promise that won’t happen,” he said.

“Because they’re still little, and they’ve been through so much already…”

“I know.”

But if Scrooge were honest, it was the first time he’d really thought about what the kids must be going through. It was hard to think of them as grieving, especially when Della seemed so cheerful the only times he’d seen her since it happened. And Donald? Who knew what was going on in that head of his? As long as he was silent, Scrooge had no idea how much he was mourning. 

“Has… Donald spoken at all this last week?” Scrooge asked. 

“Not to me,” she shook her head slightly. “But every now and then if I eavesdrop on ‘em, I can hear the two of them talking to each other. I don’t understand it… he started talkin’ on time an’ all, but then he just… stopped. An’ Hortense had them all learn sign language so he can still communicate that way, but it’d be so much easier for him and everyone if he would just talk freely again. I don’t know… maybe it’s his voice. Maybe his throat hurts when he talks.”

“Quite scratchy, isn’t it? Is it because of the throat infections?”

“I’ve wondered, but I’m not sure… when did he speak to you?”

“He didn’t, really… I was walking past the two of them playing marbles when Hortense…” he suddenly felt the need to swallow hard, but he tried to make up for the pause by getting the next few words out as quickly as he could. “…when she brought them by last month, and er… I heard him.”

Scrooge cleared his throat and took another bite of casserole, cursing internally at the rush of emotion from saying his sister’s name out loud. He hoped Elvira wouldn’t notice, but when he glanced up at her again, her face was so full of pity he had to stare at the pattern in the table cloth and think of anything else – anything to keep from blubbering in front of someone suffering so much more than he was. It’s not as though he and Hortense were close in her final years… and they weren’t close for her first years, either. He'd moved to America when she was a baby. He missed so many years with her… maybe they would have had a better sibling relationship if only…

And he realized that as long as he stayed silent, he wasn’t going to be able to think about something else. 

“So… holidays! We’ll have to sort those out. I don’t intend to keep them from you or their cousins, so… I think it’ll do them good to visit now and then.” _It’ll probably do me good, as well,_ he thought.

Elvira smiled. “Thank you. You’re all welcome here, any time.”

“And you’re welcome at the mansion... I’m not sure if I’m ready to handle their cousins yet, though.”

“Yeah, let’s start you off with just the two,” she laughed. 

After making sure Duckworth had something to eat, Elvira led each of the children by the hand out onto the porch. 

“Now you two be good for Uncle Scrooge, d’you hear?”

“Okay, Grandma!” 

But while Della slipped her hand out of Elvira’s and headed down the steps, ready and willing to head off to her new life, little Donald sniffled and wiped his bill on his sleeve, then hugged Elvira around her legs. 

“Aww, come ‘ere, Honey,” and despite her age, she scooped Donald up as easily as she would have if she were twenty years younger and set him on her hip, swaying back and forth to rock him as he buried his face in her neck and continued to sniffle. “You’re gonna be just fine. And Uncle Scrooge and I already talked about it. You’re gonna come by for a visit in two weeks, okay? And you can tell me all about getting to live in a mansion with a billionaire and a butler.”

An unwelcome feeling of guilt swirled in Scrooge’s chest, seeing Donald cry about being taken from his grandmother. It was a guilt he didn’t feel he deserved. At the same time, he was mildly impressed with the way a child could master the art of crying without using their voice. As Scrooge watched the pair of them, he didn’t notice that Della had paused and was watching them as well until she climbed the steps again and tried to comfort her brother. 

“It’s okay, Donnie! It’s gonna be fun!”

But Donald only hugged their grandma tighter and continued to cry.

Della turned to Scrooge standing at the base of the steps and scurried down to the same level with her arms up, opening and closing her tiny hands. “Unca Scrooge, pick me up! I wanna hug Donald!”

“Er…” he looked from Della up to Elvira, who nodded at him encouragingly. “Alright…” and reached under Della’s arms and set her on his hip. He was surprised by how light she was. “Well you’re just a wee wisp of a thing, aren’t you?” He headed up the steps. 

“Yup!” Della said, reaching for her brother.

He angled himself to where he was standing nearly shoulder to shoulder with Elvira so Della could lean over and put her arms around Donald, and Scrooge hardly had the time to feel uncomfortable with how closely he was standing to a woman he barely knew or how he was holding a child he didn’t think of as his before little Donald’s breathing became calmer, and his shoulders stopped shaking. 

“That’s right, you’ll always have sister,” Elvira told him. “She’ll be right there with you, all the time. And you’re going to have the best times together.”

And Scrooge wondered how Elvira could make a promise to Donald like that, especially given they’d just lost their parents. Families break up. Loved ones die. Sooner or later, even brothers and sisters are separated. 

But he supposed Donald had been forced to face enough harsh realities for the time being, and if his sister’s presence made him feel better, who was he to contradict Elvira?

After another half-minute or so, Donald raised his head and gave his eyes and nose one last wipe on his sleeve.

“There’s my handsome boy,” Elvira said before kissing his forehead. “Ready for an adventure?”

Little Donald nodded and Elvira set him down, and as soon as she had, Della squirmed at Scrooge’s side to let him know she wanted down, too, and he obliged. 

“Come on, Donnie! We get to ride in a fancy car!” Della took Donald’s hand again and led him to where Duckworth was waiting beside the open car door.

“Hold on, kiddos. Gotta make sure Uncle Scrooge knows how to buckle ya in, first,” Gus said. 

Gus and Duckworth had installed the car seats in the rear-facing and forward-facing middle seats so the twins would be facing each other. Della of course wanted to ride in the seat facing backwards because it was different, and Donald was content with the familiar forward-facing arrangement. The kids knew how to buckle themselves in, but it was still up to Scrooge to make sure the straps were tight enough before pulling down a heavily padded bar that clicked into place just above their laps.

“Alright,” Elvira said, “now you’ve had your lunch, used the potty, got your bags, your car seats, are we forgetting anything?”

Della gasped. “Unca Scrooge! The drawing!”

“Got it right here,” he said, patting his coat pocket.

Donald looked up at his grandmother and crossed his arms over his chest, then looked like he was miming scratching his shoulders. Apparently this meant teddy bear and Elvira asked Duckworth to pop the trunk so she could get his bear from his bag. Then Della wanted her bear, too, but more to introduce the bear to Scrooge rather than to find comfort.

Elvira kissed each twin on the cheek and Gus gave each of them a high five, and after Della begged Scrooge to sit next to her, and he agreed, they were off. Della began babbling about this and that and Donald clutched his teddy bear to his chest as Gus put his arm around Elvira. They watched the car from the porch until it was out of sight. Something still didn’t feel right to Scrooge about taking the children from her, but if she found comfort by honoring her son’s wishes, he was going to have to respect that. When he tuned in again to what Della was saying, he was surprised to hear she’d already changed the subject entirely.

_I suppose I’m going to have to pay close attention to these two,_ he realized. 

The moment he’d been dreading all week had finally come. His sister’s twins were in his custody. And so far… it wasn’t the worst thing. He knew it couldn’t be like this all the time, but he was Scrooge McDuck. If anyone could adapt to such a challenge, he could.

He’d have to.

It’s what Hortense and Quackmore had wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> For the life of me I couldn't find anything that said how much a child was supposed to weigh before they could ride without a car seat in California back in 1987, so for these Calisota duckies I went with what the law was when I was little in the '90s. You had to reach just forty pounds. Crazy to think about now.
> 
> I like the idea solbabydraws from Tumblr has for her AU where Gus Goose is several years older than his second cousins. I probably used an even bigger age gap than she did, but I'm goin' with it.
> 
> If anyone's curious about Donald's selective mutism in this story, that headcanon is further explained in "Peace and Quiet," which takes place a few weeks later.


End file.
